False Security
by 0.0-MIDNIGHTROSE-0.0
Summary: Harry didn't look into Snape's memories until after the battle was over. He never knew that he was the last horocrux. Now Harry must run from the wizarding world to protect them from the return of Lord Voldemort...a second time. Everyone believes Harry and Voldemort are dead...everyone except the man that saw Harry Potter apparate away two days later. Percy Weasley. HP/GW
1. Mistakes Create Goodbyes

**Hi Everyone! I have had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to try it out. I have never written for a Harry Potter Fanfic before so I am only testing the waters to see what kind of response I get. This is kind of the prologue even though I have it labeled chapter 1. I really hope you ENJOY this first chapter and please tell me what you think afterwards!**

**Thanks,**

**0.0-MIDNIGHTROSE-0.0**

**Chapter 1-Mistakes Create Goodbyes**

It was hard watching all his friends and family cry over the closed caskets. He wanted to call out, wave his arms, or simple walk towards them, but he couldn't reveal himself. The cloak rested over his shoulder, freeing his head which they would notice instantly if they were looking his way.

Harry felt his legs flinch when he saw the gorgeous red-head lean on the only stone in the cemetery without a casket. Of course, they never found the body. The body—his body—was alive and perfectly fine, but they couldn't know that. If they thought he was alive, then they would search for him. He didn't want that to happen, he would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening. Apparently, he had to appear dead or missing for them to be utterly and devastatingly closed off from searching.

He was a fool. A stupid, bloody fool. How could he think that this war was over? Of course, this battle was over, but the war was still running. Only he knew this though and only he needed to know.

Why didn't he just look into the pensieve sooner? He allowed Snape's memories to sit in his pocket while he created the ingenious plan to kill Voldemort once and for all. They decided to wait for them to leave the forest to continue the war. When they came, he started his battle with the Dark Lord. Hermione and Ron faced off with Nagini and in the last second, Neville killed him.

Harry finally raised his wand, his lips whispering the words that he has wanted to use for a long time. He used every ounce of hatred he felt towards him and whispered, "Avada Kedavra."

We were hidden from the others, having taunted and chased each other through the castle, firing off curses and spells at a rapid succession. Harry felt the moment Nagini was killed and so did Voldemort.

When the curse hit Voldemort, it was as if time stood still. An unimaginable pain filled his body and it was as if he could feel his blood boiling with pain and magic. Voldemort had come back to life using my blood and now in death, it was as if he was paying for a crime that he didn't commit. With little strength left, Harry opened his eyes and saw the dark mist lift from Voldemort's body before floating away into thin air. The remnants of his body lay still on the floor.

His body still tingled and the scar on his forehead ached considerably, but Harry was able to stand and look at the scene with mass confusion. What was that dark mist? Was that supposed to happen?

Now, as he stood on this hill, he cursed himself for the mistake he carelessly made. Nothing would be happening like this if only he would have looked at Snape's memories sooner. In hope of solitude, Harry had walked to the headmaster's office and remembered the bottle in his pocket once he arrived.

It took several long agonizing minutes to come to the conclusion that he was just made the biggest mistake of his life. Harry thought all of the horocruxes were destroyed, but it just so happened that there was one left, and it just so happened to be him.

The easiest solution was the kill himself, but he couldn't, because Dumbledore said that Voldemort had to do it himself. This meant that Harry had to wait for Voldemort to return before getting himself killed. The only thing holding Voldemort to the mortal world now was Harry himself.

This was why he needed to disappear. For all anyone else knew, the war was over and they had won. Harry knew though that Voldemort was only forced out of his own body, again.

When Voldemort returned, it would be in Harry's presence and all Voldemort will see is Harry thought red-tinted eyes. It would put everyone in danger if her were to stick around and wait for Voldemort to come back. Harry needed to leave Britain so once he did return; he would kill Harry, remove the final horocrux, and leave Voldemort mortal and weak.

Anyone would be able to defeat him after that, but if he could, he wouldn't let anyone near him, because Voldemort could still kill with a simple curse, and that would still be a danger.

He could trust the aurors though…couldn't he? But would they see this coming?

The only thing on his mind at the moment was that he had to leave and finally allow peace to enter the wizarding world. There will be no peace where Harry Potter was concerned and he would rather sacrifice his peace, then other innocent lives.

Now was a time for them to mourn and celebrate. Beautiful lives were lost during the battle, ones he secretly mourned from atop his hill. He would miss Ginny, the girl he loved. She was absolutely brilliant and would grow up to be a great witch.

He would also miss Hermione and Ron, happy that they finally were together now. They had each other, and that was what mattered the most. He would miss them though, the golden trio was gone now, but they had memories to live off of.

Harry would miss the entire Weasley family…his family. He wish he could be by their sides to mourn for the loss of Fred…help George recover and mourn for his lost twin. Right now, George resembled a concrete statue—pale and frozen. Mrs. Weasley was able to release her emotions better into her husband's shoulder as he too mourned for his son. Percy was also lifeless, staring at his brother's casket and I despised the fact that he had just gotten all his family back, only to lose one so close. Charlie was clutching his father's cloak, his head bowed with subdued sobs and finally Bill—with Fleur beside him—held onto George just as George held onto Bill.

There was so much grief surrounding him. So much death that he should have prevented. Turning around, he stared at the two graves that had already been placed. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin. Both leaving a son, Harry's godson, and now Harry had to leave him too. How he wished he could stay and comfort Teddy and tell him stories about his parents and remind him of how much they loved him.

Harry wished he had had someone to tell himself that when he was younger.

So many more lives rested in the graveyard, but he couldn't bear to look at any more. It was time to go, time to say goodbye.

A burn in his forehead sent a warning through his body and Harry turned once more to look at his family before disapperating from the graveyard.

Harry didn't know that he had let out a cry before disappearing. He had been clouded with agony. However, one person did hear and see Harry before he apparated. A person that no one believed for over 5 years.

Percy Weasley.


	2. 2 Years Later

**I decided that I will continue this story but they will be short quick chapters so that I can update faster! This will have a little (lot) of Percy Weasley's thoughts and feelings. Let's get to know him better. :) Please ENJOY this chapter!**

**Chapter 2-2 Years Later**

His fingernails were clutching the arm of the chair tightly. Ripping sounds were echoing through the small room. Accidently, he let out a small scream and a part of him worried that his neighbors would hear him.

Harry knew it was getting worse. At first, he could only feel the pain once every month. Now it was at least once every week. He tried to use occlumency to guard himself against these attacks, but seeing as how he was piss poor at the subject, it hardly worked.

Letting out a large breath of air, Harry let go of his forehead slowly. Now, all he had was a headache which he would have to live with for the rest of the day.

His scar warned him—not literally of course—that Voldemort was becoming even stronger. He wouldn't come back this year, or the next for that matter, but soon. It had been two years since he had forced Voldemort out of his body. Two years since he left his friends and family without a word. Two years since the wizarding world announced his death to the public.

Harry missed them terribly and fought himself every day to go back. How could he though? He was a danger not only to him but anyone that he is around. Harry wasn't sure how or when Voldemort would come back. He just knew that when he did, he would be ready. Ready, that is, to remove the last barrier holding Voldemort back from becoming mortal. Harry himself.

The apartment he was currently occupying was dingy and dark, much like the rest of the places he had lived previously. He would always move when he caught wind of a wizard being around, but it happened so rarely now that he reckoned he was now completely surrounded by muggles.

He was in the little town of Whitby, Yorkshire. A place where no wizards resided and all muggles inhabited. Harry hated it, but only because he would rather be at the burrow, or even Godric's Hollow. He had always wanted to live there again.

Harry stood up from the couch, just now noticing the rip in the upholstery. Sighing, he waved his wand at the tear and whispered "repairo."

Percy Weasley stood at the door of the burrow, gazing in at the dim sight. The kitchen was empty with no indication that it had been used recently. Soft murmuring could be heard in the next room where he knew the others to be.

It was hard to face his family, it always has been, but for the past 2 years it has been terrible. His family sometimes threw him mixed emotions. Sometimes they would be irritated, other times depressed, and on most occasions sympathetic because no matter they said, he would never forget the boy that stood on the hill watching.

It was only a glance, being that he apparated on contact, so others believed he was seeing things, but he knew. Percy knew that it was Harry Potter at the funeral, crying for unknown reasons. Percy has spent 3 years at Hogwarts with him, antagonizing him every time he stepped out of line or made a wrong move. Percy was always one to follow orders.

However, every word he spoke to Harry was unnecessary. Harry Potter, since he found out he was a wizard, knew what he was doing and knew that he had to break some rules along the way, then he wasn't afraid to do it.

A real gryffindor.

Percy always wondered why the sorting hat put him in Gryffindor. He would never put himself down as brave, daring, or courageous. The only times that he wasn't afraid to speak up was to give orders or nag to someone about how they needed to stay in line if they were ever to get anywhere in life. That was Percy's mistake. When he had finally given rank in a higher position, he gave no thought about what anyone else thought. Especially his family.

He had believed that everyone was jealous of him because he was finally important in the Weasley family, or doing something right for their name. He believed that they didn't understand what it meant to have power with a name.

The Weasley's were always the laughing stock with no money or power. Percy wanted to change that, but he didn't realize that the family he had didn't want power or money, they understood the real meaning of family where Percy did not.

And when he finally realized that, he uses all the Gryffindor courage he has to go back to them and apologize…in the midst of war. Percy got to fight along side his brother Fred, only for a brick wall to fall on top of him.

It should have been me. Fred understood the meaning of family and never mistrusted them or fled from them. Percy was only the outcast in his own family, whereas Fred truly belonged. He thought about this a lot, though he never spoke them out loud.

Percy connected back with the family in the time of heartbreak and despair, but he couldn't forgive himself for what had happened.

And that day that he saw Harry, when everyone else thought he was dead, he told them. They didn't believe him and walked away from him with shadows across each of their eyes. Ron hated him that day and he could see the others felt the same way, except maybe his parents.

Now two years later, they felt all sorts of emotions towards him. No one believes him to this day, but Percy was not going to give up. If he were to find Harry Potter and bring light back to everyone's eyes, then he would do so for his family. Maybe, just maybe, if he were to do this, the he would finally feel welcome into the family again.

Percy finally stepped away from the doorway and made his way into the dark living room.

**Well it's short I know. I just want to establish the story and the setting a little more before starting with the action. I love suspense and action which you will find out soon enough. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	3. Relaxing Suspicion

**Hey everyone! I updated again, surprisingly, and I can't wait for you to read this chapter! It had more action then the last two. Please ENJOY and tell me what you think!**

**Chapter 3**—**Relaxing Suspicion**

"All right, today, Mrs. Clarke?" Harry asks, picking out several pieces of fruit. They were in the middle of July and it was a nice day to be out.

Turning around sharply, Mrs. Clarke exclaims, "Oh, Harry, my dear, you startled me. You know you shouldn't go around scaring old women like me. I can only hope to live another day longer if you continue to sneak up on me," patting his cheek softly. Harry grinned sheepishly, before carrying his bag over to the register. Mrs. Clarke followed him diligently, scanning his produce in a quick, fluid motion. No matter what comments she made, Harry knew that Mrs. Clarke could take on an anaconda and still come out alive.

She was a tough woman, even if she was reaching 75.

Once Harry gathered up his bags, he finally replied, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Clarke, I guess old habits die hard."

She smiled softly at him, patting his cheek once more. "Don't fret, my boy, at least you keep me on my toes." She smiled once more at him before he moved out of the way so she could attend to her next customer.

A war hero…that was Harry's story here. No one ever asked him for details; however he also didn't supply them. Everyone knew that he was in a tough war, one that left him scarred at sunken. They believed it to be one of their muggle wars, and he wasn't going to correct them.

Harry had created a life here in little Whitby, and once people stopped tiptoeing around him; Harry had actually started to like it there. No one knew him, or called him out. He was just an ordinary guy trying to live an ordinary life.

Harry knew that living in Whitby, however, wouldn't last. He had found a job at the hardware store on the outskirts of town just because he couldn't possibly spend his wizarding money in the shops. Harry needed a way to buy necessities which meant working like everyone else.

His headaches were still occurring every week, and he would be paranoid the next, whole week until he finally relaxed. Today was actually a relaxing day, his last episode was on Thursday of last week and it was already Saturday.

Nodding his head to Mrs. Clarke in farewell, he turned and made his way back to his apartment—which he finally came around to fixing up. Turning on the lights in the kitchen—also the living room depending on how you look at it—he started putting away his groceries.

"Blimey," Harry muttered, looking at the now empty counter, "forgot the bread again." Sighing, Harry grabbed the key to his apartment, checked his sleeve for his wand, and left the apartment for the second time that day.

Harry's chest was tight as his wand rubbed against his wrist. He wanted to pull it and hold it in his hand, or even use it, but he hadn't since he put wards around the apartment. There was never any reason for him to use it anymore seeing as he was in a muggle community. He felt like he was moving even farther away from the wizarding world, but it was a sacrifice he had to make.

Harry would rather live with muggles and inhibit his powers than live in the wizarding world and endanger his family and friends. When Harry had decided to leave, he was set on isolating himself, for reason of protecting muggles and wizards, but at the last second, he decided that he would go crazy if he was alone and knew that this was his best option.

Talking to people, even muggles, was something to keep his mind off of his situation. It took his mind away from the anger, and despair that he felt every single day. To leave his family and friends, to leave the wizarding world in general was like tearing his heart into a million pieces. He missed Ginny every day, and wished that he could just see her once, but he held himself back.

He also wanted to see Ron and Hermione…his best friends. What would happen if they found out he was alive? Would they be happy? Angry? Disappointed?

I had left them at the point of despair and didn't even tell them he was alive. Even if he did, and was able to say goodbye, they wouldn't let him leave, or at least follow him on another ridiculous journey to save the wizarding world.

They had already sacrificed enough for him. He hoped Hermione's parents weren't too harsh on her for erasing their memories. The Grangers dental business would have been turned to ashes, which wouldn't help Hermione's cause.

And Ron…Ron needed to be with his family. He would feel as if it was his moral obligation to go with Harry, as his friend, but Ron needed to be with his family after Fred's death, and the family had just reunited with Percy again.

What are they doing right now? Is Ron an auror? Is Hermione working in the Ministry? Are they married? Is Ginny?

Harry flinched at that last thought, forcing himself to think of something else…anything else.

Rounding a corner, Harry realized that he had been walking the wrong way. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he must have taken a wrong turn. Hell, he didn't even know where he was. He had only lived in Whitby for two months, and even though it was a small town, there were still some places that he hadn't ever gone seeing any need to visit them before.

Now though, he realized that Whitby might be bigger than he thought. Harry blankly stared at the street signs, having never heard of the names before. There were only a few people on the sidewalks, none he recognized, which surprised him. Every day he saw the same people, and he knew most of their names now, but he had never seen these people in his life.

On a whim, Harry reached into his coat sleeve and grasped his wand, not removing it in case he was just feeling paranoid.

Two people were walking towards him, though neither had noticed his presence yet. Harry looked them over, but felt no recognition…except for some fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Harry's eyes widened. Maybe they were just visiting; wizards had never lived here before. He would have noticed…wouldn't he? Maybe he was just so caught up living like a muggle that he hadn't recognized the signs.

They looked to be a couple. The man had curly brown hair, a brown mustache, and a large, burly build. The women had long, blonde hair with bright, blue eyes and a small smile on her face as she talked to the other man. He would smile back at her softly, but it looked as if a veil was covering his eyes.

They were both holding hands, but what Harry noticed was that the man was holding his other hand in a fist in his sleeve and the woman was hugging herself around the waist, though to others it would appear she was just hugging herself closer to the man.

They were clutching their wands, however, and before he could blink, he pushed himself into the alley a few feet back and pressed his back against the wall. His wand slid swiftly into the palm of his hand and he held it towards himself as he focused on transfiguring himself to have a different appearance.

He hadn't practiced this sort of magic in ages though, and his attempts were shaky and weak. When he dropped his wand in defeat, he finally felt the start of a burn in his forehead. Frantic—and slightly angry—he closed his eyes and started pushing a shield around his mind.

It was a blood brilliant time for the horocrux in his scar to start acting up. Harry's breathing became labored as a sharp pain twisted in his forehead causing him to cry sharply.

Suddenly, he heard soft whispers in his mind. They were soft hisses but they were enough to freeze Harry's body. _Harry_, it says, _I'm coming. I will come back and murder ever person that you love. You have not defeated me, I will come back. Harry Potter, I will kill yo-"_

The hissing broke off suddenly, and Harry found himself gasping and clutching his head. Maybe he was in shock, he wasn't sure, but he realized that his time was running out. He forgot about the wizards he was hiding from, and he forgot about the despair he had felt moments ago. All he felt was shock and pain.

It was one of the most episodes he had ever felt, as if he was standing in front of Voldemort once more as he entered his mind uncontrollably and painfully. He had gotten stronger, so strong that he was able to enter Harry's mind once more. What would happen next month, or even next year? Would Voldemort regain enough strength to take over his body, like he did his fifth year?

It was another reason he couldn't be around anyone, and he felt selfish for wanting company when any second Voldemort could enter his body or even reappear by taking the life from someone else's body.

Wasn't that how Tom Riddle tried to reappear in the Chamber of Secrets? He had used the diary horocrux to suck the life out of Ginny so he could come back to life. Could he be the catalyst to Voldemort's return?

There were so many questions that he failed to answer and he wanted to talk to someone, anyone, and figure out what was going to happen.

Finally, regaining his breath, he dropped his hands from his head, and looked up. In that split second, two wands were pointed at him. Shocked, Harry lifted his hands wearily, wondering how he was going to get out of this situation. He could obliviate them? Or even send a body-bind curse at them so he could flee. No one would believe that they saw Harry Potter without proof. Unless they used a pensieve to prove they saw him. He wouldn't be able to fire a hex though because if he shot one of them, the other would shoot him.

Harry couldn't think of any more options. Slowly, he lowered the hand with his wand and dropped it on the ground at their feet. The female, reached down and nabbed it before pointing her wand on him once more.

Harry suddenly realized that they were looking at him without any sense of recognition. Did they not know what he looked like? Why were they even pointing their wands at him then? He wasn't a fugitive.

The man suddenly shook his wand at Harry, "Get up." Harry complied easily. "What is your name?"

Swearing inside his head, Harry quickly thought up a name, "Neville Longbottom."

Both of the wizards looked at each other, furrowing their eyebrows. "He doesn't look like any of the wizards on the list," the female replied confused.

"Maybe he's listed for a less severe crime?" The man replied, confused.

"The energy rating in this town is extremely powerful though," she stated, glancing back at Harry. _Energy rating, _Harry questioned silently, _what in the bloody hell is an energy rating?_

A sharp kick to his shin snapped him out of his thoughts and he scowled at the witch, not realizing that they asked him a question. "Who else is here with you?"

"Uh, what?" Harry stated confused, looking between the two. "I'm the only wizard that lives here, the rest are muggles."

The man narrowed his eyes at him, "why are you living in a muggle town?"

"I chose to," Harry states bluntly, wondering why he was being questioned.

"Then why are you disguising yourself as Neville Longbottom? I know Neville personally, so don't think that you are getting away with that alias" The man growls sternly causing Harry to curse out loud. "Now I want you to tell me your real name before I place a body-bind curse on you and drag you to Azkaban myself."

Harry tried to think up a different name, and while doing so caught his reflection in the silver trash bin. Understanding finally dawned on him.

His hair was brown—like he imagined it—with dark brown eyes and a sharper defined nose. His figure was taller and wider with small muscles protruding from his arms and chest.

No wonder they didn't recognize him, he didn't even recognize himself. Which was a good and bad thing, because he didn't want them to know who he was but he also didn't want them to arrest him because he continuously lied about his appearance.

Picking up a piece of brown hair, he swiped it away from him and then noticed his lightning-shaped scar still taking presence on his forehead. The skin around it was red and irritated from his episode and he knew that if he were to touch it, it would burn horribly.

A little scratch from the man's shoe warned him of his approach and he quickly looked towards him. The man's wand, however, wasn't pointed at Harry anymore. His face looked as white as a ghost and I could tell that he could be seconds away from either fainting or jumping around in excitement.

"Harry," he stated before waving his wand to take away his illusion. Leaning against the wall in shock, both men stared at each other in surprise.


End file.
